


Tom&Paula at the BAFTAs

by littlemisscurious



Series: Tom, Emmy, Ben, Ellie, Paula, Max and Sophie [25]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: BAFTAs, Diary, F/M, Gen, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-24 16:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1611713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisscurious/pseuds/littlemisscurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This chapter was written by a good friend of mine by the name of Caitlin. All credit for this goes to her!</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. The Day of the BAFTAs

_9 am_

_awake since: 7 (why???)_

_cups of coffee: 2_

_level of desperation (out of 10): 1_

I am not quite sure what to expect today…the stylist, that is Paula’s stylist, should get here two hours before we are being picked up…my stylist will be here an hour later…Emmy and Ben, who have both been up since 7 (don’t ask me why), are running around the house but mostly running around after Paula, asking her which celebrity she would like to meet most tonight…her answers vary as far as I can tell…so far I have heard Helen Mirren, Hugh Jackman, Meryl Streep, and Sir Ian McKellen…I have a feeling that the final name will be an entirely different one…attempts to prepare for my laudation tonight have yet been unsuccessful…

_12 pm_

_cups of coffee: 4_

_desire to have a glass of whiskey (out of 10): 2_

_level of desperation (out of 10): 4_

Paula has now come to the conclusion that she is too pale for the red carpet. She also believes that she will definitely trip over her dress. I have tried to convince her that it won’t happen but she isn’t listening…She considers wearing a suit now…Problem: She doesn’t own a suit!

She’s also been on the phone with her mum for almost an hour now. They are speaking German so I have no clue what it’s about…I don’t like that especially not because she’s been crying at least twice now…I have therefore decided to call Georgia, a friend and colleage from the piano school she is teaching at. Georgia will be here in an hour…

Emmy and Ben have, meanwhile, suggested to make lunch to help out although I have come to the conclusion that lunched cooked by two 5 year olds will probably be inedible and therefore we will order something…a special treat for the children… and for me…

Also, I could swear that the bottle of Jameson up on the mantelpiece has started talking to me just now…I will pretend, for now, that I can’t hear it…

_3.30 pm_

_cups of coffee: 4_

_glasses of whiskey: 1_

_level of desperation (out of 10): -2_

Paula’s stylist has arrived and I am not allowed anywhere near her old bedroom upstairs. I have no idea what her dress is going to look like, I have no idea what she will look like…it’s all one big mystery.

I have given in to the murmuring and whispering of my Jameson bottle. I feel very relaxed now.

Emmy and Ben are upstairs with Paula and Georgia. I’m all alone now…I shall try to practise my laudation speech again until my stylist gets here in half an hour.

…I still don’t know which suit he has picked but obviously there has been some talking going on between him and Paula’s stylist…should I be scared?

on a side note: Luke will get here in an hour…he sounded slightly worried earlier…not sure if it’s because of me (I tend to run off sometimes) or Paula (she’s never even been near a red carpet before)

We shall see…

_4.55 pm_

_cups of coffee: 4_

_glasses of whiskey: 1…and a half…maybe_

_level of nervousness (out of 10): 15_

Okay, I am dressed. My suit is a dark blue which might (or might not) give me an idea about Paula’s dress…but then again, what do I know of colour combinations for dresses and suits? Precisely - nothing!

Emmy and Ben are dancing around my legs because they know what she looks like but they aren’t allowed to say anthing. It drives me mad! I still love them, though!

Georgia left a few minutes ago. According to her, Paula looks “like a princess” and even though she is still nervous, Georgia claims her job here is done.

 _ **I**_ am nervous. Not for me but for Paula. I really want her to enjoy tonight. Up until Luke reminded me a few minutes ago, I had even completely forgotten about being nominated because my thoughts had revolved solely around her.

I can’t wait to see her. I can’t wait to step out of the car with her, to show her to the world. I don’t care if she’s 14 years younger or not.

I…I love her.

And it’s about time everybody gets to know that!

So…it’s goodbye for now…if anybody has an idea of her dress etc, let me know ;)


	2. Preview: A Night at the BAFTAs

"Alright, just make sure she feels comfortable. I don't want her to do something only because she feels she has to please me. This is her special night as well," Tom smiled at the stylist, who nodded and headed off upstairs. Paula’s old bedroom had been transformed into her dressing room for the evening and not only were Emmy and Ben bustling about upstairs but also Georgia, one of Paula’s best friends from the local piano school she worked at. 

"It's quite an unusual sight to see you so nervous," Luke grinned as he was leaning against the worktop in the kitchen, a cup of coffee safely in his hands. Tom merely pulled a face and once more checked his watch before he looked longingly at the now empty whiskey glass by the sink. 

 

He truly was excited that she had agreed to accompany him but he was also aware of the position he put her in. She would step into the public light as his girlfriend for the very first time, as his much younger girlfriend not the least. He knew Paula wasn't too keen on all the cameras, the attention, the red carpet. But she did it nonetheless because she knew how much it would mean to him.

"She's special, Luke. She really is. I know this is all still very new but...it feels so right, you know. It feels so different than with Maya, although that was simply a disaster anyway, to be honest." A little embarrassed, he let his hand run through his hair but Luke didn't comment on his relationship with the author from the previous summer. Instead he simply smiled and nodded. "Make sure you hold on to her then. I think Ben and Emmy wouldn't mind her staying either."

Silence settled between the two men and only the occasional giggle or opening and closing of doors upstairs was any proof of the proceedings up in the attic room. He wondered what Paula would look like. He knew his own suit was a shade of dark blue but other than that, his and her stylist had kept him in the dark. Of course she would look beautiful, Tom was aware of that. But he was impatient on this special night and the fact that Luke was eying him with an amused smirk playing around his lips, didn’t make waiting any easier.

***

“Daddy! Daddy!” 

With excited shouts and flushed faces, Emmy and Ben came running down the stairs. Georgia had already left a little while ago and only the twins and her stylist had been Paula’s companions until the very end. 

Straightening his waistcoat and jacket once more, Tom left the living room to took his position at the bottom of the staircase. It was 5 o’clock, their black limousine was waiting in the driveway and Paula was finally ready to go.

It was her feet he saw first, clad in a pair of silver peep-toe heels as she slowly descended the stairs, step by careful step. The dark blue fabric of her dress swayed around her legs and her hand, adorned by a simple yet stunning silver bracelet, clutched the banister. 

The sight of her left him speechless. Her hair was styled in a messy, though beautiful updo and her face, framed by a few loose strands of hair, shone with excitement and anticipation. 

 

“She looks like a princess, doesn’t she, Daddy?,” Emmy said and looked up to her father whose eyes were fixed on the young, blonde woman in front of them.

“Yes, Emmy, she does,” Tom mumbled before he smiled and took a step towards her, offering her his hand for support as she approached the end of the staircase.

“You look absolutely stunning, Paula. So, so very beautiful,” he breathed for only her to hear and once more, Paula blushed heavily and averted her gaze to the ground. Gently, he lifted her chin with the tip of his finger. “I want you to walk with your head held high tonight, my love. You have every right to do so,” Tom added in a whisper and after her slow nod, he pressed his lips tenderly onto hers much to the amusement of his children, who giggled while the two grown-ups kissed.

“Thank you, Tom,” Paula smiled after their short but loving kiss and, letting go of his hand, she turned towards Emmy and Ben. “And thanks to you for being such wonderful companions this afternoon. Now, be good for Emma and I’ll tell you all about the BAFTAs when we have breakfast tomorrow,” she winked at the twins and bent down to kiss them both goodnight before Tom did the same.

***

“Everything okay?,” he smiled as they approached the Royal Opera House. Her right hand was intertwined with his while her left one was fiddling with her small, silver clutch. 

“Yes, sure. I’m just nervous, that’s all. But you’re with me so...I’ll be fine.” Paula took a shaky breath as she looked at him, at his gentle, reassuring eyes. 

“I won’t leave your side, I promise. Unless you want me to,” Tom smiled before the car came to a halt and the door beside him was opened. Waving at the crowd and the photographers, he exited the car only to turn around and offer Paula his hand. A murmuring went through the waiting audience as he hadn’t brought a date along to an award ceremony since the untimely death of his wife almost five years prior.

A wave of “ohhs” went through the waiting throng of people and a few even started clapping when Paula stepped out of the car and Tom’s arm found his way around her waist almost immediately. 

“See, they already love you,” he whispered with a grin and the young woman responded with a quiet chuckle. They posed for the photographers, Tom’s hand never leaving her waist and looking at the photos afterwards, he wasn’t sure whether his or Paula’s smile was the bigger one that first instant on the red carpet. 

 

She relaxed more and more the further down the carpet they went and by the time they reached the doors of the Royal Opera House, she was already busy talking with Amanda Abbington and Sarah Cumberbatch, the latter of which caressed her growing bump much to the delight of her husband. 

“She seems to feel quite at home,” Benedict grinned at Tom as they posed for a photo together. The younger one blushed a little and briefly looked at his girlfriend, tall and beautiful amidst all the actors and directors bustling about the red carpet as if she belonged there and nowhere else.

“I think she does. I’m so glad she enjoys herself. I was pretty worried but obviously these worries were without cause,” Tom mumbled in response and stepped aside a little with his colleague and friend when they were done posing and smiling.

“I think you underestimate her, Tom. Paula is older than her years and she is much more confident and independent than you, and maybe even she herself, believe.” With a friendly pat on the bag, Benedict left him standing there to walk over to his pregnant wife before they both entered the venue together. 

 

Tom smiled at Paula as she looked up and their eyes met. Her cheeks were a little flushed but she stood tall and proud, looking like a goddess in the dark blue Ellie Saab gown. Without taking his eyes off her, he covered the few metres between them with a few long strides and, excusing themselves from Amanda, he led her into the Royal Opera House.

 

“I love you, Paula,” he whispered as they stepped into the impressive building and, not having expected such a confession, Paula almost stumbled. Quickly, he caught her and pulled her into his arms, worried that he might have overstepped a mark.

“Could you...could you repeat that?,” she whispered, her blue eyes fixed on him.

“I said I love you, Paula,” Tom repeated quietly, watching her reaction intently, relaxing only when she smiled the widest and happiest smile he had ever seen on her.

“I love you, too, Tom. Oh god, I love you, too.” Flinging her arms around his neck, she pressed her lips onto his own, not caring about the cameras, the glances from the staff and fellow guests alike as in that moment it was only him and her she thought about.


	3. Stargazing - The Night after the BAFTAs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by a good friend of mine by the name of Caitlin. All credit for this goes to her!

 

What. An. After party.

Tom trailed Paula around the floor, dancing her to dizziness in between endless glasses of scotch and shots (damn that Benedict). This was not the traditional BAFTA gathering; this scene was more likely to be found in Hollywood, but Tom found no fault in this. He had a gorgeous girl on his arm, “my gorgeous girl,” he’d been growling in her ear for the past half an hour, as her blushes grew deeper, her laughter echoed louder, her dancing body moved closer to his eager hands. Paula pulled in close and trailed her fingers through his hair as Tom gripped her hips and met his to hers. “My gorgeous girl,” he bit her ear. That was it.

Paula tightened her fingers in his curls and pulled his head down so she could whisper into his ear for a change, “Thomas William. Take me home. And make me see stars.”

And they were off. They hastened into the night, Paula wobbled on very-high-heels and Tom’s languid limbs were a little too loose to find a completely straight line. All the better to cling to each other. They righted themselves as best as possible to face the swarm of photographers around the exit, but the photos couldn’t miss the flushed faces and off-focus eyes and how with every step Tom’s hand slipped closer to Paula’s delightful bum. But before any indecency could be captured, the two dove into a black sedan and set off toward home.

—

“Oh Jesus, that’s a sight.” Tom had fumbled with the door keys, where was the bloody keyhole?, _oh god Paula yes_ , and his head hit the door when his neck gave out in pleasure. Emma, babysitter extraordinaire, though pain in the ass (especially at this very second) little sister, thinking there was trouble, opened the door to find Paula’s arms wrapped around Tom’s waist and her hands in a compromising position. The two tripped through the doorway with muffled laughter at Emma’s apathy, and righted their disarrayed clothing. It had been a nice ride home. “Call me and thank me in the morning. Don’t wake the kids. You’re gross. Goodnight.” Perhaps she wasn’t a pain in the ass, wonderful, quick-exiting sister.

—

They started with their shoes. Paula groaned in pleasure as her feet relaxed for the first time in hours, and Tom, as he toed his off as well, licked his lips at her sound. As she unzipped her dress, Tom lunged for her, too long gone from his embrace, and he captured her body to his and kissed her, one arm cradling her head, the other around her waist. Paula’s toes sought purchase on the ground, but Tom had lifted her just enough that she was carried backwards as he stepped forward.

He laid her down on the staircase. “Tommm…” Paula started to question, but his name drew out into a moan as he dove under her dress, hands stroking up her legs, racing to reach the sides of her barely there undies that he had been dreaming of seeing. He pulled her delicate dress up and over her head, before throwing it down the stairs behind him. Tom trailed his hands between her breasts, cupping them through the lace, and down over her taut tummy. Paula’s breathing grew heavier, as did her eyelids, and she struggled to keep watch of his dexterous hands, curious as to what pleasure they’d bring, but as Tom took hold of the underwear and pulled them off, Paula lost and her eyes closed and her legs parted and she gripped the staircase to anchor herself.

Tom devoured her. As soon as the flimsy barrier was gone he kneeled on the steps below him to align himself at the perfect height. The perfect height to have perfect access to bury his face in her perfect- “TOM!” Paula’s hand pulled his head tighter against her as his tongue caressed every inch. His mouth encompassed her, quickly sucking her clit into his mouth before releasing it to tend back to here with his tongue. The edge of the stairs were digging in to Paula’s ass (and head, and shoulders, and- ow, shit- ribs) but Tom and his very talented tongue quickly sent her spiraling.

Tom smirked, and wiped one last drop of her from the corner of his lips. He pulled himself up the stairs and hovered over her. Paula, who hadn’t fully returned to Earth, leaned up and nipped at Tom’s lips. Her hands, meanwhile, reached straight for his belt and trousers and pulled his length out. Tom’s jaw went slack at the feel of her hand around him, and Paula took the chance to taste his tongue with hers. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her heels forced his hips to drop, and as Tom groaned into her mouth, Paula aligned him with her entrance and thrust her hips up to bring him in.

How it felt to be inside of her was Tom’s favorite. How he parted her and how she enveloped him, inch by inch. The way she felt, so humid, so tight, around every ridge of his cock was heaven, he was convinced. And whether it be the scotch or the shots or just the look in her eyes, Tom’s body hummed and he gripped her hips and sat up on his knees and buried into the deepest depth of her and stilled. His head dropped back as he panted. His fingers tightened and dug into her skin. His trousers slipped down his bum as he widened his legs. Leverage. She wanted stars and he would deliver. Paula’s heels kicked at him as she writhed below him on the stairs. Her hands flew wildly before finding his suit jacket, and then she grasped and pulled and kissed him again. Tom braced himself against the stair above her, his body laid out, holding her in place.

Tom was lost to his pleasure and thrust into Paula, his head dropped to her shoulder to muffle his moans. He could hear Paula’s gasps in time with his rutting hips and it drove him on, faster, harder. Paula grappled at his back, the slick material failing to provide a handhold, and so she settled on his hips. His only exposed skin as he remained clothed, and she could feel his arrhythmic movements. She was so close, he brought her to the precipice so fast, but she just needed that little bit more. Her right hand snaked between their bodies and stroked her clit with rapid flicks in the manner that she knew would bring her to the finish. “Oh god. Oh Paula. Yes, I love it when you touch yourself. Yes darling. Come; come with me.”

And hearing the growl in his voice that had propelled them off the dance floor and through the city and halfway up the stairs, set her off. Paula’s toes curled and her fingers clenched and her eyes shut tightly and her head threw back as she let out one last moan before losing her breath. And as Paula’s body tightened around him Tom bit into his lip, muffling his yells, as one hand pulled and gripped Paula’s thigh higher around his waist before he, too, became a rock. Neurons fired all at once and both of them, and behind their slowly unclenching eyelids they saw into the deepest depths of the universe. The most beautiful stars.

Paula relaxed under Tom and after a few lungfuls of air whispered into the night, “Now how about we try that again in bed?”

They raced up the stairs and Tom tripped out of his clothes. There would be explaining to do in the morning as the hallway was littered with socks and a bra and a jacket and- oops- shirt buttons, but first they would revel in the success of the night.


End file.
